Back to normal -- Saints to 'Aints

By TED MILLER, P-I COLUMNIST

Published 10:00 pm, Friday, October 12, 2007

SLOWLY, THINGS ARE getting back to normal in New Orleans.

For one, tourism is on pace to increase more than 60 percent this year, according to USA Today. While those 6 million expected visitors are down from the 10 million who came in 2004, pre-Hurricane Katrina, they're spending more money and staying longer.

And that's all prelude to what surely will be the biggest party on the planet in 2008 if LSU reaches the BCS national title game, which will be played in the Superdome on Jan. 7.

Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez!

But if you're looking for a more immediate and meaningful sign that the old New Orleans is coming back, look no further than the Superdome just last Sunday.

"They had a couple of bag-heads at last week's game," said longtime New Orleans Times Picayune sports columnist Peter Finney with a chuckle.

Ah, the 'Aints, those peculiarly masochistic Saints fans who place brown paper grocery bags over their heads to hide the fact that it's slightly embarrassing to love such a befuddled, luckless franchise.

Now there's a New Orleans institution as beloved as a Ferdi Special at Mother's (and if you know what that is, I apologize for making you hungry -- and your arteries shriek).

That the Saints are 0-4 as they fly across the country to square off with the Seahawks on Sunday night means things are settling down in the Big Easy. While some still might tear up over the Saints serendipitously posting their best season in franchise history in 2006, thereby giving a struggling populace something to feel good about, that inspirational effort broke with longstanding traditions in a city that cherishes its unique history.

They sing the blues in the Crescent City better than anywhere else. The food and drink charm with unhealthy decadence.

And in order to attain normalcy, the Saints must reek like Bourbon Street at 5 a.m. on a Sunday.

New Orleans may play host to Super Bowls, but it certainly isn't supposed to play in them. It just wouldn't be right.

This is a town that celebrates at funerals. What would they do if something catastrophically good happened?

The franchise was founded in 1967 ("Purple Haze" recorded by Jimi Hendrix). It posted its first winning season in 1987 ("Who's That Girl" recorded by Madonna).

When the Saints beat Philadelphia in the NFC Divisional Playoffs last year, it was the franchise's second playoff win. In 40 years.

"That bond is unique here and something that existed prior to Katrina," Saints coach Sean Payton said. "I would say (it) just grew some momentum and strength this past season, with everything that had gone on."

Yet, for the most part, the Saints have been loved with a joyful pessimism. Saints fans are like Cubs fans, only jazzier and even more lubricated. They prefer their food fried and topped with hollandaise and often speak with incomprehensible accents while bemoaning their lovable losers.

Please, don't view this flippancy as downgrading in any way the tragedy that befell the city in which I married my wife.

The Saints' return to the Superdome last season was moving and magical, and their surprising success certainly worked as a symbol for the city's resilience.

But if you carry the metaphor too far, it suggests that this season's downturn in some way psychologically trenches the messy, erratic recovery effort, which out-of-town media reports constantly tell us is going badly.

This town isn't tying its fortunes to a football team as it goes about an unprecedented effort to rebuild itself.

"Football is the toy department in the overall scheme of things," Finney said. "People lost so much, so football was a recreational deal that got people's minds off losing homes and losing loved ones last year.

"Some fans are in a state of shock this season, but these fans in a state of shock have lost more than football games. I think they keep those things in perspective. They've been through tougher times than a losing season since Katrina."

Finney isn't just any sports columnist. He was born and raised in New Orleans. He started working at the then-New Orleans Times in 1945. He'll turn 80 next week.

He lives in the French Quarter and rode out Katrina when it hit, evacuating to Louisville, where his son lives, two days later.

Then he came back. He never entertained the idea of living anywhere else.

He's optimistic about his town in a way many from New Awlins are -- measured, hopeful, skeptical but never completely unamused.

"It's been slow -- some of the politicians have made missteps," he said. "Lately you see signs of progress. We're getting on the road we should have been on earlier. But it's going to take years to get it back."

Therefore, it should be comforting that the Saints are reverting to their traditional antics.

So do not cry for New Orleans and its Saints fans. Send money, sure. Or go down and order a Sazerac or a Hurricane and eat at Galatoire's or Palace Café.

But know this: Bag-head by bag-head, this city is getting back to normal.